Mary Jane Goes To Hell
by Lord Hoth
Summary: Peter Parker's battered psyche is reeling from the harrowing events of Kraven's Last Hunt. Desperate to help her husband, Mary Jane Watson-Parker seeks the help of the superhero community to undertake a seemingly impossible quest: to retrieve the soul of Harry Osborn from beyond the grave.
1. Prologue: The Dream

I hate recurring dreams.

Me and my best friend in our college bachelor pad. He proudly holds up a science exam that I helped him study for. "I owe it all to you, Pete. I knew my best friend would never let me down."

A party. Dinner. Music. Dancing. Girls. But all throughout is the smiling face of the man who paid for it all and made it all happen.

Harry Osborn.

A flash to a different moment. The roar of a jet engine. The noxious smell of smoke. Some other strange, otherworldly sound.

Flash back to cruising in Harry's convertible through the streets of the boroughs. Our girls laughing beside us.

The scene cuts back to the smoky jet engine. The smoke parts, revealing a glider. Above the glider, a manic face leers down at him. That same strange sound, a jabbering screech…

A laugh.

That laugh.

In that voice, a grim parody of his best friend's.

The voice of Harry, twisted by the Goblin formula. Harry had struggled with substance abuse in the past. He had even gone to the hospital after a particularly nasty LSD overdose. But it seemed most of his problems could be traced back to a domineering, withholding, sometimes-abusive father.

The maniacal laughter, the overpowering stench of exhaust, the scream of the engines.

His best friend had counted on him to be the guy who never let him down. But when Harry needed him the most…

A red gloved fist collided with a green masked face with the force of a freight train.

It wasn't Spider-Man versus the Green Goblin. It was Peter Parker and Harry Osborn, tossing each other around a rooftop.

Where had he gone wrong? At what moment had he lost control and lost his best friend to the same demon that had taken Gwen from him?

The Osborn townhouse exploding. The Goblin Serum—altered by Harry—had finally taken its toll.

Harry's last act had been to carry his unconscious rival out of the exploding house on his glider. And then exhaustion, stress, and the toxic drug finally claimed their victim.

His best friend died in the garb of his mortal enemy.

Flash back to his apartment, Peter passed out on the couch, Harry tucking a pillow under his head.

Peter poring over his books, and Harry dropping a can of soda and a snack next to him.

Peter walking home in the rain, and Harry picking him up in his car.

Mary Jane holding little Normie in her arms, and the paramedic coming over to tell them that Harry was dead.

Then the memories stopped, the past ended, and the present began. Harry being tortured. Harry screaming in pain. Wearing the mantle of the Green Goblin, sans mask, while real demons cackled all around him.

The Green Goblin had damned his best friend to hell.

And Peter Parker had failed to save him.

Peter jerked awake in bed, sitting straight up, and instantly regretting it, knowing he had woke his wife again.

Her eyes bored into him. "The same dream again?"

He sighed. "This time he would have to tell her the whole thing.


	2. Ruminations

Mary Jane Watson-Parker-supermodel, soap opera star, and overall survivor-was as strong a woman as they come. She had survived natural disasters, alien invasions, kidnappings, and personally punched more than one supervillain in the face.

But though she'd known full well of the weirder side of Peter Parker's life before she'd married him, there were certain aspects of being wedded to a superhero for which she was wholly unprepared.

A couple of months ago, one of Peter's longtime sparring partners, Sergei Kravinoff, had drugged him and buried him in a graveyard. Kravinoff had then proceeded to put on Peter's costume and parade around town at night. Mary Jane had lived in a cold sweat for days, knowing for certain that her husband was dead.

Then he'd finally shown back up, days later, mind broken, withdrawn, and barely holding it together. She'd learned later that the man she loved had clawed his way out of the ground with his bare hands.

Between the dad jokes, the goofy grin, and the terrible fashion sense, it was easy for Mary Jane to forget sometimes that the man she'd married was no longer what you'd call human.

It was days like that which reminded her.

Peter had never been particularly good at dealing with grief. But this brush with death had the made the task of dealing with the recent loss of Harry Osborn even more difficult.

What he needed was a good night's sleep. Instead, he had put on that ridiculous costume and was poised to once again jump out the window.

"Please, Tiger," she pleaded. "Stay here with me. You need rest and I need my husband."

"Sorry, Red," he said, pulling on the mask. "Can't sleep. No point in keeping you up. Not when I can do some good out there."

A flash of red-and-blue, and he was gone.

Mary Jane went to the couch, pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and lit one. Peter hated it when she smoked, but it wasn't as though he was here to object.

She blew smoke out of an open window, and her mind went back to Peter's dream. She'd known Harry as one of her closest friends for as many years as her husband had. She'd had more than a few talks with him, trying to help him sort out his personal demons. She'd watched Harry blame all of his problems on Peter, create a deadly trap for him, then save them all from the peril at the last second. A change of heart, she had thought. One last act of redemption.

But then she thought of the death and destruction he had rained down during his times as the Green Goblin. It was easy to tell herself that it wasn't him, that the Goblin serum had created an alternate personality that had committed those crimes while commandeering the body of her friend.

But would anyone else see it that way?

Mary Jane had never been a big churchgoer. But her experiences with Peter had shown her how real the supernatural could be. She knew that Spider-Man had traveled to different Hell dimensions on multiple occasions.

More than that, his recent brush with death had not just cut into Peter's restful sleep. It had increased his sensitivity to the supernatural, his awareness of the realms beyond death.

Spider-Man had been dead for a whole week.

Had he passed his best friend's soul on the way home?

With all the stress he had been under, Mary Jane had no intention of asking Peter these questions any time soon.

But one thing she did know. If he was mentally fit to face this question, he would not hesitate to travel to the depths of Hell to save his friend.

The Parker family desperately needed a win.

Mary Jane reached for her cell phone. It was up to her to give it to them.


	3. Sanctum Sanctorum

On the outside, 177A Bleeker Street looked like every other building in the surrounding neighborhood. But Mary Jane knew that it was protected by the most advanced security system on the planet.

It was warded, shielded, and host to most of the magical energies that ran through this dimension. It was the Sanctum Sanctorum, the home of the Sorcerer Supreme.

She was met at the door by an aging, bald, Chinese man named Wong. Wong was the steward of the Sanctum and the closest confidante of Doctor Stephen Strange.

"Welcome, Mary Jane," Wong said with a smile.

She smiled and shook both of his hands. "Thank-you for seeing me on such short notice."

"Please, Mary Jane. We are far past formalities. Stephen considers both you and Peter to be family. Come inside. I have prepared tea."

They sat around an Oriental rug, sipping steaming-hot tea from old, delicate looking cups.

"I regret that Stephen is unable to join us. He is engaged on business out of town for at least a few more days."

"I hope he's in no danger," Mary Jane said.

"No more than usual," Wong said. "But I can see that you are distressed. Is Peter well?"

Mary Jane sighed. "Physically, he's fine, Wong. For a man who crawled out of the ground a couple weeks ago, he's in as good a shape as I've ever seen him."

"Physically," Wong said. "You mean that his body is healthy, but his mind is not?"

"When he first came home, he was close to catatonic. Could barely talk. When I told him what Kravinoff had done, worn his costume….frightened me….he went after him. And now—"

"Kravinoff is dead. After so many years. The police ruled it a suicide."

"Peter said the same."

"I believe him," Wong said. "Even after all that animal put him through, he is still a good man."

"I never doubted that," Mary Jane said. "But he doesn't sleep well anymore."

"Insomnia?"

"Recurring dream," she said. "Keeps waking him up."

"Did he share the details with you?"

Without hesitation, she related the dream to the old man.

When she finished, Wong smiled. "The concern of a wife for a husband is a beautiful thing. These kinds of dreams are normal for a brain trying to deal with all of the trauma and stress that Peter has encountered in the last several months. I know you're accustomed to thinking of your husband as a normal man."

"I was."

"But," Wong continued. "He is actually among the more resilient beings I have met in my long years. Greater than his spider-powers is his indomitable will, which the Doctor and I have witnessed on numerous occasions."

"You're trying to tell me not to worry about his mind?"

"I'm trying to say that, to you, your husband's powers seem like an accident. But the universe chooses the warriors that are most fit to the task."

"It seems like you're comparing him to Stephen," Mary Jane said. "But Doctor Strange had years of study and practice, and he chose this life. One day, Peter was bitten by a spider, and suddenly his life changed forever. All this was thrust upon him. How can I not worry about him?"

Wong chuckled. "The answer depends on the day when you ask Stephen whether he chose this life or it chose him."

"Tell me truthfully," Mary Jane said. "He was underground for a week. Is there any chance these dreams are more like…visions?"

Wong paused and seemed to give it serious consideration. "Stephen has always said that Peter's spider-sense is a manifestation of his connection to all life. By nature, without prompting, he sees things that others cannot."

"What if we could help? Couldn't we go there and get him out?"

"You think, my dear, that Harry is in an actual Hell dimension. But Peter's dreams may not be that literal. More likely they stem from his own sadness and guilt rather than any perception of the true state of Harry's soul.

"So you're saying." MJ leaned forward. "Harry does have a soul. And it's definitely somewhere."

"These are matters of faith, Mary Jane," Wong continued to try to reassure her. "Shades of belief, not of any kind of certainty available to mortals."

She was polite and steered the conversation to more pleasant avenues. But Mary Jane knew in her heart what Wong was really saying. _Not available to mortals_ meant that the door was closed to her. Because she was not a sorcerer, not a practitioner, not even a superhero. Just a worrying wife.

She left the Sanctum Sanctorum smiling, hiding her resolve to show Wong just how little he knew about her.


	4. Invisible Girl Talk

Mary Jane called the Baxter building and, even though it was the middle of the night, Susan Richards took her call.

MJ had only been a superhero's wife for a couple of years. Sue had been balancing being the wife of one of the world's foremost scientists, the mother of three children with their own burgeoning abilities, and her own cosmic powers for years now. Even so, she was as down-to-Earth as any of MJ's other girlfriends, even if she was always extremely busy.

"I just put the kids back to bed," Sue said. "Reed's been in the lab all night, of course. I just wanted one night where I could read a book and soak my feet, but CNN keeps calling about the Pulitzer interview, and Ben and Johnny won't stop horsing around. It never ends around here, Mary Jane."

She told Sue about the dream.

"That's awful, babe. I'm so sorry. I think Reed would probably have dreams all the time, too. You know. If he ever slept."

"Did the cosmic rays make it so he never needs to sleep again?" MJ asked.

"Oh no, hon. He was always like that, ever since he was a little boy. Science is his first wife. I'm just the mistress." She laughed.

"I'm really worried about him, Sue. I can't help but think that Harry really is in one of those Hell dimensions somewhere, being tortured."

"Oh girl. I wouldn't even think that," Sue said. "We go to Hell dimensions all the time, but we never see anyone we know."

"So regular mortals don't go there?"

"Oh, they absolutely go there. They're all over the place. But they're just lost souls, Mary Jane. They probably don't even remember their past lives."

MJ was starting to get upset. "What you're telling me isn't making me feel better, Sue!"

"I know what you're going though, Mary Jane," she said patiently. "I really do. And honestly, if it were up to me, I would jump in the ship with you and we could go look for your friend right now. But I know what Reed will say." She did a very impressive, if not exactly flattering imitation of her scientist husband. " _The universe, my dear, while seemingly chaotic, is structured with extreme precision in relation to all its forms and functions. Everything has its place and a place for everything. And science demands that we learn all we can about it, but reminds us how futile our attempts to change it really are."_

Mary Jane was really starting to get angry. "That's such garbage, Sue!"

"I know!" Sue said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that MJ's anger was directed towards her. "That high and mighty jackass, acting like I don't know about the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle."

Mary Jane was at loss for words.

"Listen, babe, I've got to run. I need to start my Kree cucumber facial before the crème expires and we have to go offplanet to get more. I know 800 light years is a long way to go for skin crème, but if you saw my pores, you would understand. It's like _magiiiic_." She practically sang the word through the phone. "Call me tomorrow, girl. Love you!"

MJ heard the click of the line disconnecting and slammed her phone down.


	5. Conviction

Hours passed and Peter still did not return home.

She knew he was alive, of course. All she had to do was turn on the police scanner and, at least every thirty minutes, some mugger would be found wrapped up in webbing. But that was of little comfort to Mary Jane. With every passing moment, she knew with growing certainty that Peter's dream was real. He knew it, too, but he probably didn't want to say anything.

She just wanted him to come home so she could hold him in her arms and tell him everything was going to be all right.

She lit another cigarette and silently berated herself.

When Peter held her in his arms and gave her reassurance, they weren't just empty words. He backed them up by going out into the world every night and _making damn sure_ that everything was going to be all right. With every last ounce of his formidable strength, he made sure that the city that never sleeps could close its eyes if it ever chose to do so.

He gave of himself to make sure that the ones he loved were okay.

How could she do any less?

Spider-Man held the world in his hands. But Mary Jane Watson-Parker held Spider-Man in hers.

If he could fight for what he loved, then so could she.

Mary Jane went to her wardrobe and found one of the gifts that her husband had given her. Secretly, it was her favorite. A set of older-model webshooters, adjusted to fit her own wrists.

She strapped them on and headed out.


	6. Fateful Meeting

There was no one at home at Avenger's Mansion. At least, that's what the mansion's mechanical steward, Jocasta, assured Mary Jane in a voice that sounded all too similar to Janet Van Dyne's.

"You don't mind if I come in and have a look for myself?" MJ asked.

Jocasta seemed to consider a moment. "You do have level 8 security privileges," the robot said. "But I will be required to escort you around the premises."

"Fine," Mary Jane said. "Please take me to the lab of Dr. Hank Pym."

The robot obliged, leading her up an elevator, past innumerable security checkpoints, and through twisting, winding corridors. She finally a came to a laboratory that put any of Peter or Tony's to shame. Coiled around a large machine at the center of the lab was an impossibly large man, turning a wrench and paying no mind to anything but his work.

Before her eyes, the giant man shrunk down to human size and, without missing a beat, continued working on the machine.

"Doctor Pym?" she said. "I'm Mary Jane Watson Parker."

No response.

"Doctor Pym?" said Jocasta. "You have a visitor."

After a few seconds, Pym blinked and seemed to notice the robot. "Ahh, Jocasta, glad you're here. Can you find the tertiary quantum spike detector?"

"Doctor Pym," Jocasta repeated. "You have a visitor."

"Oh." Pym blinked and noticed her for the first time. "Hello, Mary Jane."

"Hank," Mary Jane said chidingly. "I'm surprised you remember me."

Pym flashed a smile. "But, of course I remember you, my dear." He accepted a tool from Jocasta and applied it to his task. "How is your lovely daughter?"

Mary Jane bristled. "We don't have children, yet, Hank."

"Oh, right," Pym said absently. "Must have been a parallel universe."

Mary Jane laughed vivaciously. "Hank, you're so funny. But sometimes, I wonder if you're really joking."

"What?" the Doctor said without looking up. "Of course I am."

"No, Hank. Peter has told me stories about going to different dimensions. Like Limbo. He says it's a real place."

"Well, sure," Pym doubled back. "I mean, there are what you might call different planes of existence that are separated from our universe only by the quantum foam. Some of them fit the descriptions of what Human myth would call Limbo."

"Or Hell," MJ prompted.

"Well, not Hell. Well, yes, there is one called Hell. But it's not really Hell."

MJ hesitated. "They call it Hell?"

"Well, yes."

"And there are demons there?"

"Well, there are races of demon-like creatures."

"And souls of people like us."

For the first time, Hank stopped working and looked up at her. "What are you asking, Mary Jane?"

"Wong told me that Hell was a real place. But he made it sound like it was only accessible through magic."

Pym visibly scoffed. "Well, Mister Wong would say that."

"So you can get there with science?" MJ asked.

"Of course I could. I've been there dozens of times. All one has to do is shrink down to a size small enough to permit's one's physical form to pass between the quantum foam."

"The walls between dimensions," Mary Jane said.

"Precisely. Hell is only a few jumps past the Microverse."

"So you could take me there?" Mary Jane said.

"I certainly could," Hank said, resuming his work. "But why would I want to?"

Mary Jane tried. "Because I'm a friend and I'm asking you to?"

"So I should expose a friend to mortal danger on a whim? Moreover, a friend who is the beloved wife of another friend. A man who, by the way, has a strength factor of ten times peak Human strength, who could theoretically crush my head between his two hands like unripe fruit."

"Peter would never do a thing like that."

"Really? Let me paint you a picture. 'Hello, Hank.' 'Why, hello, Peter.' 'Have you seen my wife?' 'Why yes, I have. The last time I saw her, her flesh was being devoured by demon-like creatures.'"

"Oh, Hank. Can't you imagine that I would never even ask such a thing if it wasn't incredibly important?"

"Then what, pray tell, is the reason behind your request?"

She told him about the dream.

To her surprise, Pym didn't outright refuse, or offer any condescending comments, lies, or excuses. "I see. Will you follow me to the blackboard, my dear?" He shrunk down abruptly, landing on the back of a flying ant that zipped its way across the lab. At a chalkboard on the far wall, he resumed normal size and began scrawling white lines.

As she walked up, Pym began speaking. "These, Mary Jane, are the Hell dimensions." He drew a tiny bubble in the bottom corner of the board. "This is Limbo, a pocket universe rules by a sorceress. Waaay up here…" He drew two larger circles in the top right corner. "Is Niffleheim, the Asgardian realm of the dead. And Hades, the Olympian hell."

He returned to the main part of the board, filling in the long, parallel lines. "Those realms are far away from the ones ruled over by the Hell Lords."

"Hell Lords?" MJ said dubiously.

"According to myth, the Universe was once presided over by the Elder Gods, until they were destroyed by the Demagorge. The resulting explosion contained a great deal of negative energy that eventually manifested itself into what universal anthropologists call Class 2 Demons."

"Oookay. Hank, I'm not going to pretend that I followed all of that. But can I assume that Class 2 Demons are the big, mean ones?"

"That would be correct. Some of them have names you might recognize. Like Beelzebub, Lucifer, Mephisto, Dormammu. Whether Human legend was influenced by their actions, or they purposely took the names of creatures from Earth myth is a subject of debate. But separating fact from fiction is an academic exercise when it comes to such beings. The only pertinent fact is that they are just as nefarious as any of the stories suggest. Perhaps more so. The fact of the matter is that while science could afford an easy entry into their realms, our arrival would instantly attract their attention. We would then be on the radar of extremely powerful beings. Even were we to escape their kingdom unharmed, their power extends into our own dimension."

"I understand that, Hank. But doesn't Doctor Strange prevent those types of creatures from coming here?"

"Yes," Pym said. "From direct incursions. But a direct invasion is not necessary for them to exert their influence on events on Earth."

"You're saying that they might come after us once we're home?"

"They would be foolish to attack me," Pym said. "But your home is hardly as secure as Avenger's Mansion."

She jutted out her hip. "Mary Jane Parker is not afraid of demons."

Hank Pym, who was used to strong women, assented.

"I'll admit, the idea of using science to subvert the rules of religion and mysticism is a compelling experiment subject. And the amount of data I could potentially gather would more than justify the expense. But why would Peter not want to be part of this?"

"Didn't you hear about Kravinoff?"

Hank shook his head and MJ briefly explained how her husband had been interred and returned to the land of the living.

Pym was nodding. "Such a harrowing experience is sure to wreak havoc on his mental health. You're hoping to aid in the recovery process by bringing back the best friend he lost. A touching sentiment. But you must prepare, like any scientist, for the possibility that your experiment might fail."

"I'm prepared," MJ said. "For any outcome."


	7. Reconoissance

Some minutes later, Hank Pym was working on one of the most advanced computers Mary Jane had ever seen. From what she could tell, Pym seemed to be entering multiple searches into some vast database.

"Before we can deduce our destination, you must first tell me about Larry's proclivities."

"You mean Harry. And what?"

"What sins did he commit? Like Dante's Eight Circles of Hell, offenders are often sorted in the demon realms by the nature of their crimes."

Mary Jane felt an internal shudder as she remembered the screaming face of the Green Goblin. "Murder," she said sadly. "Greed, family violence. But I think the sins he committed are more the fault of his father and the serum he created."

"Great," Pym said, typing furiously. "So mental illness and substance abuse. Rather like a cross between me and Tony."

"Are you enjoying this, Hank?"

"No. I mean, I sympathize with your pain. But the prospect of solving this puzzle is admittedly an exciting one."

"So what? This computer will tell you where he is?"

"My database will narrow down possible locations in each Hell dimension, and my scouts will reconnoiter the areas."

"Scouts?"

"My insect friends, shrunk to microscopic size, will pass between the quantum foam carrying sophisticated instruments." He placed an odd-looking camera device on the table in front of him and fitted a silvery helmet over his head. Instantly, ants began to swarm over the camera.

"You can control the ants across dimensions?" she asked.

"No," Pym admitted. "I'll have to go with them."

"How will you know when you've found him?"

"In order to recognize Jerry's soul," Pym said. "I'll need a piece of it."

"It's Harry," MJ corrected him. "And how does science even detect a soul?"

"It's quite simple," Pym said. "Every living brain is charged with electromagnetic energy, which ceases to flow after death. However, brains of the deceased usually contain a residual charge, which, when stimulated, has caused dead bodies to occasionally sit up, move, even make noise."

"What are you going to do?" MJ asked. "Dig up Harry's body?"

"Nothing so gruesome, my dear," Pym said. "My ant comrades will tunnel into his grave with a miniaturized electrometer. They will collect samples of the residual energy in his brain and transmit it back to the lab, where I will use specially designed software to create a spectrographic analysis which will paint an electromagnetic picture of Harry's brain patterns.

Mary Jane tried not to let her utter confusion show on her face. "So that will help you find his soul?"

"If my hypothesis is correct," Pym said. "The spectrographic patterns found in Harry's brain will match those of the spirit organism that once inhabited it.

Mary Jane nodded. "How long will you be gone?"

"There's a time dilation effect in place when traveling through the microverse, like astronauts traveling in outer space. While approximately one day will pass for me, for you it will feel like approximately 2.6 hours."

"So….." Mary Jane said. "What do I do in the meantime?"

Hank was making some last minute calibrations on his equipment. "Are you a religious person?"

MJ shrugged. "Not really."

Hank smiled. "Good. Then you'll have no God to make peace with. Because after I get back, Mary Jane, we're going to Hell.

With that, he shrunk down and disappeared.


	8. Plan

Having nothing else to do for two and a half hours, Mary Jane walked around the lab and worried.

Her thoughts drifted back to Pym's earlier words. She imagined Hank telling her husband when Mary Jane didn't make it back alive. His sanity was already hanging by a thin thread. If she didn't come back, it would surely push him over the edge.

Well, she thought resolutely. That was why she would not fail.

Jocasta seemed to detect her distress. "Do not worry, Mrs. Parker. Doctor Pym is tethered to our universe through a data stream to my own CPU. I am receiving a constant flow of electronic signals from our intrepid explorer."

Mary Jane indulged her curiosity. "How does that work with the time shifts?"

The robot cocked her head quizzically. "I do not perceive time the same way you do, Mrs. Parker."

"So he's okay? He'll be back on time?"

"Oh no, Mrs. Parker. Doctor Pym is rarely on time for anything."

"I guess that's one quirk I ought to be used to," MJ said. "So how late will he be?"

"He's taking extra time to calibrate the equipment. So approximately two hours."

"Two hours!" MJ exclaimed.

"Apologies," Jocasta said. "Two hours of his own time. From your perspective, it will only be a few additional seconds.

Mary Jane sighed and resumed pacing the room.

A short time later, an ant abruptly flew up next to her, and Hank Pym sprang from its back, growing to normal size. Immediately, he began fiddling with his equipment. Mary Jane tried desperately not to show her anxiety. After a few moments, she said, "Well, Hank?"

The scientist jumped as though he had just noticed her. "Oh. Mary Jane. My apologies. Interdimensional travel can leave one a bit out of sorts."

"Sorry. So did you find Harry's soul?"

"Yes. Well, I found a spirit organism with an electromagnetic signature similar to Harry's."

"Great. So do you have a way to catch it?"

"Well, that's the problem. A spirit organism is not something you can simply catch, like a stray cat. This particular soul is bound to the hell dimension by three distinct forces, like…soul tractor beams. Each of them must be disabled before the organism can be removed."

"So what are you saying? I have to disable tractor beams?"

"Well, yes, but no. They will be less like tractor beams and more like native creatures."

"Native creatures of the Hell dimension."

"Yes."

"So, what? Three of the 'demon-like creatures,'" Mary Jane made air quotes with her fingertips. "How powerful are they?"

"Well, the average denizen of this particular hell has the approximate strength and intelligence of a wild cat in Earth terms. It's the more intelligent ones that we'll want to avoid."

"And they are?"

"Servants of Mephistopheles, the Class 2 Hell Lord that presides over our target dimension."

"Mephistopheles." The word came naturally to the theatre major.

"Mephistopheles has made frequent attempts to gain power in our own dimension. Reed's records from the Silver Surfer contain accounts of several attempts by the demon to gain ownership of the Herald's soul. The testimonies of John Blaze blame Mephistopheles for infecting him with the demonic parasite, Zarathos."

"So he's very powerful," Mary Jane said. "If he can travel between dimensions."

"Yes," Pym said. "But that might actually work to our advantage. Mephistopheles's ambitions are so wide-ranging, his total attention is rarely focused on the day-to-day management of his hell. We may be able to neutralize the demonic forces that bind Harry's spirit organism, contain it, and return to our own dimension before Mephistopheles notices."

"Really?" Mary Jane said. "So you just happen to have soul-capturing equipment in this lab?"

"Oh yes, of course!" Hank said brightly. "I began work on my own prototype proton packs after the release of the film Ghostbusters. Have you seen it?"

"Um, duh Hank," MJ said cheerily.

Pym led her to another corner of the lab, where he dug out a dusty, old box. From inside, he removed some high-tech looking backpacks.

"While I do have the capturing devices lying around, unfortunately I will need a few hours to brew fresh ammunition for the offensive weapons."

"Offensive weapons? Like guns?" MJ said. "Why would you brew ammunition?"

"This particular ammunition was inspired by John Blaze. He was kind enough to let me analyze objects he had charged with hellfire."

"So now," Mary Jane said, a bit stunned. "You brew your own synthetic hellfire."

"It will only take a few hours. I know you are anxious to begin the expedition, but proper preparation will be the key to our survival."


	9. Warning

They descended to a lower level of the lab, where everything was done behind safety screens with protective gear. Mary Jane watched through very thick glass as floating, silver robots stirred a river of what looked like molten lava.

As Hank was engrossed in his work, MJ was not expecting anyone to strike up a conversation with her. She was certainly not expecting a yellow-and-green android to walk out of the wall.

She searched her memory for its name. "Vision."

"Mrs. Parker," said a very calm, but human sounding voice. "You hide your discomfort at my sudden appearance quite well."

"Thank-you," Mary Jane said. She quickly wondered aloud. "Are you going to tell the Avengers about this?"

"In time, they will learn," Vision replied. "But I will not alert them with sufficient notice for your efforts to be hindered."

"Thank-you," Mary Jane said.

"I would be remiss, however, if I did not warn you of the potential dangers."

Mary Jane rolled her eyes.

"I do not believe that Doctor Pym has given you sufficient information about the true risks you are facing."

"You think because I'm a woman, I can't handle myself?"

"Not at all," Vision said. "I have measured both sexes of Human as equally good at handling conflict. What troubles me more is that you will be more vulnerable to Mephisto in other ways."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"In Mephisto's interactions with mankind, he offers them bargains in exchange for their souls. But the souls he most covets contain extremely pure emotions."

"I don't know how pure my emotions are right now," Mary Jane said.

"The devotion of a wife to a husband usually caps out somewhere below the stage where she journeys into Hell to recover his best friend."

"Harry was my friend, too!" Mary Jane insisted angrily. "I failed him, too. He died saving my life. And my husband's life, as well. I can't let his sacrifice be for nothing. The Parker family needs a win, Mr. Vision, and Mary Jane is gonna get it for us."

Vision smiled. "I will do my best to aid you, Mrs. Parker. I just had to make you aware of the risks."


	10. Let's Make A Deal

Except for some minor dizziness and nausea, Mary Jane found the process of shrinking between the quantum foam to be a fairly tolerable experience. Even with the ton of gear Pym had abruptly strapped to her back before beginning the process.

"The shrinking process is based on my own discovery of the Pym Particle," the Doctor droned. "I must warn you that long-term exposure leads to side effects, but short term exposure generally does not."

"What kind of side effects?" she asked.

"In my own case, my DNA has bonded with the particle, and I am able to manipulate my own size without the need for exposure. But that is only after a lifetime of working directly with the particle."

"So tell me about this gear?" Mary Jane said. "What does it all do?"

"You will be equipped with a standard, vacuum style capture device for Harry or any other souls you would like to isolate."

For the first time, Mary Jane wondered about Pym's motives. "Is there any other soul you were hoping to isolate?"

"No. Of course not," Pym said, blinking. "Just better to be prepared for any eventuality."

"Right."

"The other item is the hellfire flamethrower. Superheated particles of their own universe, guaranteed to fry even the toughest demon hide."

"In other words," MJ said, inspecting the equipment. "Don't shoot yourself in the foot."

"To say the least," Pym said. "And be on your guard. Many of the creatures in this dimension are feral animals, but the more intelligent ones will be more devious than you can imagine. Trust no one in this universe, no matter how friendly they may seem."

"Duly noted, Doctor," MJ said coolly. Hank finished last minute modifications on their suits and then they were ready.

Later, MJ reflected, that it was rather like travelling on a bus. Only the bus stops were weird alien cities. And instead of riding in a vehicle, she was tossed into a giant Kaleidoscope between ports.

They arrived on a craggy surface of rock with a strong smell of sulfur in the air.

"This is Hell?" MJ said through her breath mask.

"Yes," Dr. Pym said through his Ant Man helmet. "Remember that Harry's spirit organism is bound by three distinct forces. The first and weakest force springs from this area."

"And this force is…alive?" Mary Jane paused as she saw a pack of doglike demons sneaking up behind Pym. She jumped forward and sprayed the area with hellfire. The demons retreated with howls of pain.

"Excellent," Pym said. "You've picked up on the operation of my weapon quite quickly."

Something beeped on Hank's suit, and soon they were both fending off waves of angry demon dogs, ranging from housecat size to horse size. Just when Mary Jane thought she would be overwhelmed by burning corpses, Pym would shrink them to microscopic scale, effectively clearing the battlefield.

When they had swept the area clean, Pym followed the readouts on his instrumentation to a pile of large rocks. He pushed them aside until he uncovered what appeared to be a large, furry, orange satyr, snoring loudly.

"Mary Jane, meet the Demon of Greed, Belial."

The creature continued snoring.

"Go on, Mrs. Parker. Take him out."

MJ paused. "You want me to shoot a sleeping demon?"

"The operative word here is 'demon,' my dear."

"I can't just shoot someone in their sleep," MJ protested.

"Mary Jane, I thought you understood the seriousness of this matter. We only have a limited time in his realm before Mephistopheles notices us. We must finish our business quickly."

The orange satyr yawned and stretched.

"Maybe we could try reasoning with him first," MJ said.

Pym sighed and sat on the ground. "It's almost as though no one explained to you what a demon is."

Belial was gradually waking up. "Who's that?" he grunted.

"Mister Belial?" she said. "I'm Mary Jane Parker."

"Lord," he coughed.

"What?" she said.

"I'm known as Lord Belial, not Mister," the satyr grunted. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to ask you for the soul of my friend, Harry Osborn," she said.

"Harry," he mused. "Yes, I believe I own a third of that stock. Spoiled rich kid, right? Classic avarice case."

"That's not quite true," MJ said. "Harry gave a large portion of his company's profits to charity. He even founded a charitable foundation."

"Yeah yeah, I know," Belial said. "And he also embezzled a great deal of those funds into manufacturing weapons and chemical performance enhancements."

"He was under the influence of those enhancements," Mary Jane argued. "And his problems all came from his father."

"Look, lady," Belial said. "I ain't no child psychologist, and I ain't a tax lawyer. I'm the guy who gets a stake in the greedy souls. You wanna take my interest, you have to give me something of equal value."

"What kind of something?" Mary Jane asked.

"Okay, that's enough," Pym said, standing up. "We're not making any deals with the denizens of this dimension."

"And who are you, sparky?" Belial said. "What gives you the right to make decisions for the lady?"

"You will not be getting my full name, Lord Belial," Pym said. "You may refer to me as Goliath."

"A clever one," Belial said. "But if you hope to gain my share of your friend's soul, you'll have to give me something."

"Oh, I'll give you something, all right," Pym said and hefted his flamethrower.

"Wait," MJ said. "You're just going to kill him without even giving him a chance?"

"Kill me?" Belial chortled with laughter. "You smell like mortals, intruding in my realm. How do you plan to kill me?"

"The same way we killed all of your minions," Mary Jane answered. "With hellfire."

"What manner of mortals are you that can manipulate hellfire?" Belial asked.

MJ turned the barrel of her weapon to the side and fired a short burst into the air.

Belial smelled the air and widened his eyes. "Okay," he said, raising his hands. "I don't want any trouble. Goliath, Mary Ann, why don't we cut a deal? I'll relinquish my portion of Harry Osborn's soul, if you agree not to kill me or any more of my followers."

Pym spoke. "We agree not to kill you or any of your followers for the duration of our visit. As long as you agree to be our guide."

"Done, done," Belial said. "But you mortals are foolish indeed if you think you will escape this realm with your prize."

"You had better hope that we do," Pym threatened. "Now let's get a move on."


	11. Madness

Pym's detector led them to the second force binding Harry's soul. Having Belial in tow seemed to deter any of the lower demons scattered about from harassing them.

"So tell me, Red," Belial said. "Your man was greedy, and by the looks of this place, a bit crazy, as well."

"First of all, Harry's not my man," MJ said. "He's a friend. Second of all, he wasn't a bad person. He just lost his way."

"Oh, he lost his way!" Belial said mockingly. "I hate it when that happens. Haven't they invented GPS up there yet? Or do you still go by the stars?"

"Don't bother talking to him, my dear," Pym said. "In fact, the less you say, the better."

Belial galloped ahead and stuck his face toward Pym's. "And what about you, Goliath? Why would you leave your comfortable little laboratory for the wild west? Do you have a thing for Red, here?"

"I'm not giving you free information, Lord Belial," Pym said. "If you act as an acceptable guide, I may treat you to another of my names."

"But I already have the name of the lovely Mary Jane Parker," Belial said. "Although it seems that there may be more to it than that."

Before she could reply, Hank interrupted. "Now, my dear, never give your name, least of all your full name. The power of a name is significant to these creatures."

"You call me creature," Belial intoned. "But the trappings you wear mark you as no ordinary mortal. Your appearance is unusual, your mannerisms abnormal. Where you come from, you are doubtless the outcast. The freak."

Pym offered no comment.

"Perhaps you'd like to continue your research without waiting for money from the lesser minds? From the trust-fund pretty boys who inherited their fortunes? What if you let me give you unlimited earthly riches? Then you would truly be a giant among men, Goliath, rather than the one they all sneer at behind your back."

Mary Jane was feeling pangs of sympathy for Pym, wondering if Belial somehow knew about Tony Stark. But Pym remained focused on his instrumentation. "The next binding force is seemingly associated with Osborn's mental illness. Is there a demon of mental illness living in this region?"

"Oh." Belial actually stopped trotting. "Oh, no. Not that Harry Osborn. Why do you want to release the soul of an Osborn? I was wrong about you two. You're not ordinary mortals. You're necromancers!"

"Okay, calm down," Mary Jane said. "We're not necromancers. Right, Goliath?"

"Of course not," Pym said. "Necromancers use magic to release evil spirits. We're using science."

"No!" Mary Jane exclaimed. "Harry is not an evil spirit."

"Yeah. Okay," Belial said. "He's here, he's a spirit. He did evil things. There's an expression for that in your home dimension, what is it? Potato, potah-to?"

"Look at his pheromone concentration, my dear," Pym said. "He's frantic. Lord Belial, what is it about the Osborn name that scares you?"

Then a voice with a familiar, manic quality answered for him. "Don't you know, necromancer? The Osborn line belongs to me!"

In front of them stood the Green Goblin.

Belial scampered away.

Mary Jane stared in shock at the Green Goblin. "Harry? Is that you?"

The Goblin cackled, but then his laughter turned into hacking coughs. Then, a different voice spoke.

"Yes, Mary Jane. It's me. Are you here to help me?"

"Mary Jane," Pym said.

"It's okay, Goliath. It's not him. That's not Harry's voice."

The Goblin clutched his chest. "Don't you know me, MJ? I was your boyfriend once. I was your best friend first. Before he came between us."

"Give it up," Mary Jane replied. "You may know Harry, but you're not him."

"You're right," the Goblin admitted. "I do know Harry. And I know you, too, Mary Jane. Abusive father, wayward siblings. But you were always the center of attention, everywhere you went. You get everything you want. The dream jobs, the shiny cars, the perfect husband. But the rich husband wasn't good enough for you. You wanted the one that could throw cars."

MJ looked at Pym. "Can I roast this guy now?"

"It might interest you to know, my dear, that my readings indicate this is not one of the native demons."

"Not a demon, am I?" the Goblin sneered. A massive, black, leather winged bat swooped down and the Goblin leaped astride its back. It flew forward and breathed flame at Pym and MJ.

The duo ducked down, managing to avoid being scorched by the flames. Pym shrunk down to avoid any damage to his equipment, but MJ's backpack was roasted. She quickly pushed it off her body, and, only moments later, Pym shrunk the slagged equipment out of sight.

Mary Jane watched it disappear, then felt a familiar nauseated feeling, and found herself shrunken, as well. She stood next to Pym, who was adjusting settings on his equipment.

"We are now only millimeters high," he said. "This will impede that bat from targeting us."

"Oh my God, Hank, I am so sorry."

"Oh, I'm not angry with you, Mary Jane. I'm actually quite excited. That bat creature appears to be a previously uncatalogued species. I may be the first in the scientific community to identify it."

"Hank, maybe—"

"They might call it the Pym Bat!"

"Hank! How are we going to beat this thing?"

Pym looked surprised. "To be honest, I was hoping you would tell me."

"Me?" she exclaimed.

"There have been no less than five distinct Green Goblins manifest independently in our home city. All of them have been defeated, directly or indirectly, by the efforts of your husband. Additionally, you have a personal connection with many of them."

"But, Hank!"

"Mary Jane," Pym said firmly. "I only agreed to this expedition because you have such a wealth of information on our target. Not to belabor the applicable cliché, but knowledge is power."

"Okay, Hank. I get it. It's not a native demon, which means it's probably from our dimension. It knows enough about Harry to impersonate him and enough about me to piss me off."

The black bat flew above their heads, unusually large and terrifying.

"It's not Norman," MJ said. "I would know that voice, too."

"Keep your ears peeled during the next phase of our battle," Pym said. "Determining his identity will be key to discovering his weaknesses."

"Right," she said.

"Plan of attack. I will fly aboard the bat's back and resume normal size. You will resume normal size on the ground and use your webshooters to subdue the bat, nonlethally if possible. I will attempt to subdue the Goblin."

"Hank, the webshooters."

"I saw them on your wrists. An older prototype, I assume?"

"Yes. But, Hank. I've practiced with them, but I've never used them in a situation like this."

"You'll be fine. I have faith in you. Ready?"

She set her jaw and nodded.

Pym returned her to normal size in time for her to witness the flying ant zipping up towards the bat.

Mary Jane followed the creature's trajectory, lined up her shot, adjusted the pressure settings and fired.

Both weblines connected squarely with the creature's shoulders. Mary Jane yanked as hard as she could, pulling the creature down with a shriek. At the same time, Pym grew to full size behind the Goblin, wrapped his arms around it, and hauled it down as they lost their seating on the flailing bat. Pym moved them into a roll that redistributed their momentum. Goliath and the Goblin rolled around on the ground, wrestling. Bolts of electricity rained from the Goblin's gloves, and Mary Jane was struck by how similar this being's arsenal was to the Osborn tech of Earth.

"Maybe these so-called demons don't know you," the Goblin said as he struggled. "But I know all of your names, Yellowjacket! Everyone in the academic community knows about the Ant Man. The genius who discovered the particle. And the madman who created Ultron. We all know the reason that Stark keeps you locked in the basement. To keep you from destroying the world!"

A stream of sticky web goo landed squarely in the Goblin's mouth, preventing further discourse. Mary Jane moved closer. "There was only one Goblin who was a member of the academic community," she said. "Harry's psychiatrist, Doctor Bart Hamilton."

The Goblin began making choking noises and shook violently for a moment. Then, his face began to morph into more human features.

"Excellent work, my dear!" Pym said. "You invoked his true name." He dealt the Goblin a few more decisive punches to the face. "It's nice to be recognized, Dr. Hamilton. I'm afraid I've never heard of you."

Hamilton's face twisted into a sneer more hateful than anything the Goblin's face had produced. "You wife-beating son of a bitch. You can search the entire multiverse for Janet Van Dyne. But, deep down, you know the truth. She ended her own existence, just to get away from you."

Mary Jane watched as Hank Pym's perfect composure shattered. Pain shadowed his face, and the scientist suddenly grew to an enormous height, one where his hand was the size of Hamilton's entire body.

"THAT WAS YOUR LAST MISTAKE," Goliath's voice boomed.

Pym's closed fist slammed down on Hamilton, splattering blood and viscera onto Mary Jane.


	12. Onward

For a moment, Mary Jane could only stare in horror as Goliath repeatedly slammed his hand into the mass of unrecognizable pulp that had been Bart Hamilton a few moments ago.

The Goblin had been soundly beaten, but the giant was now attracting a lot of unwanted attention. Dozens of demonic minions came swarming towards the scientist, who smashed one after another with animal ferocity. Mary Jane watched as Pym led the army of creatures away from her.

She stood for a few moments, staring across the empty wasteland.

The smell of sulfur and the sting of dirt blowing in her face, sensations she had formerly barely noticed, now seemed overpowering. It was all up to her now. She was alone in Hell now with no weapons and no guide.

No guide.

Mary Jane knew she was about to take a great risk. At the same time, she felt an overwhelming sense of urgency.

"Lord Belial!" she shouted into the blowing wind. "Are you true to your word or not?"

There was silence for several long seconds, and Mary Jane started to despair. Then she heard the approaching sound of hoofbeats. The orange satyr galloped upon her, smiling balefully.

"Madam," he said. "You insult my honor. The power of any creature of the netherworld hinges on the truth of our oaths. I pledged to be your guide, and as long as you adhere to the terms of our deal, so shall I."

"Do you know the third force that anchors Harry's soul to this place?" Mary Jane asked.

"I do indeed. And I shall guide you there, my lady. But I warn you, the power of the last demon dwarfs the combined might of myself and the Goblin. Without Goliath, there is no chance you will prevail against him."

Mary Jane put a hand on her hip. "Lord Belial, I don't remember asking for your opinion."

The demon bristled. "All right, Red. Whatever you say." He turned and trotted off. "Follow me."

It felt like they had been walking for hours. Mary Jane had no way to measure time. She was beginning to wonder if Belial was leading her in circles until they finally came upon something that looked wholly out of place.

In the midst of the desert wasteland was an oasis, with green trees and bushes growing around a small lake. In the middle was a colonial-style mansion, spotless and elegant.

"What is this place?" she asked.

A smooth, deep voice sounded ahead of her. "This is my home. Welcome."

A tall, broad-shouldered, impossibly handsome man walked out of the front yard. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored outfit that accented his well-muscled physique. In spite of herself, Mary Jane sucked in a breath.

The man took her hand as if to shake it, then planted a kiss on it.

"Who are you?" she asked shakily.

"You may call me Marcus," he said. "And what is the word for the charming creature who has wandered onto my property?"

Remembering Pym's warning about the power of names, Mary Jane introduced herself with the first false name that sprang to mind. "Janet," she said. "Janet Van Dyne."

"Enchanted, Ms. Van Dyne," Marcus said. "You must be tired from your journey. Please, take some rest. Perhaps when you have fully recovered, you can join me for dinner."

Belial pushed in between them, shaking Marcus's hand furiously. "That would be lovely. We would find that lovely."

Marcus cast a spiteful glance at the satyr. "Your…companion is, of course, welcome to join us."

"Great. Fantastic." Belial grabbed Mary Jane's shoulder and led her toward the house. "Come on, Red. Let's find the commode."


	13. Power of a Name

The inside of the mansion proved to be as luxurious as the outside suggested. Mary Jane took her time freshening up in one of the largest and most well-appointed bathrooms she had ever seen. She resisted the urge to take a shower. As she walked out into a guest bedroom, she noticed Belial nestled onto one of the fainting couches.

"I thought politeness was important to your kind," Mary Jane said harshly. "You were a little rude back there."

Belial chortled. "Oh please, Red. I was doing you a favor. I got you out of there before Marcus literally charmed the pants right off you. That would put an end to your mission real quick."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm guessing ole' Harry was either into drugs or high-priced hookers."

Mary Jane scowled. "He had his problems with drugs."

"Makes sense," Belial said. "But our demon friend out there isn't just the lord of mind-altering substances. He's the master of all the pleasures of the flesh. Lust being first and foremost. That guy has pheromones powerful enough to get Mother Theresa into assless chaps."

"He doesn't look like a demon," Mary Jane said. "I get the feeling Marcus isn't his real name."

"No. But, I can't tell you what it is."

"You said you'd be my guide, Belial."

"Hey, I'm keeping to my end of the bargain, Red! Nowhere in our agreement did I ever say I would endanger my life by pissing off a demon much stronger than me, just because you asked. A name is a powerful thing here."

"If you're so afraid of him, why are you trying to protect me from him?"

"Are you kidding, Carry-Ann? Every demon within a hundred miles of here saw what your Goliath buddy did to the Goblin."

"Is that why you won't use my real name?" MJ asked. "You're afraid of my friend?"

"Hell, lady, I'm afraid of you, too. Any mortal that's crazy enough to come here has got to be a certifiable candidate to replace old Bart back there."

There was a knock at the door and an ethereally beautiful woman entered. "Marcus asked me to inform you that dinner is served."

Mary Jane and Belial followed her to a well-appointed dining room where they were treated to the most lavish, five-course meal that she had ever eaten. Marcus engaged them in small talk throughout dinner. Mary Jane politely answered his questions without revealing too much information. She studiously tried not to look too long or hard at him, reminding herself that the intense attraction she felt was just his pheromones acting on her.

When the meal was over, Mary Jane searched her brain for some excuse to retire for the evening. Then Marcus said, "So, Ms. Van Dyne, you said you were an actress?"

Her head was swimming, as though she was drunk, and she wondered vaguely if her drink had been spiked. Had she told Marcus about her love for the theatre? "Yes," she said.

"I have something, then, that I know you will love."

She stood up from the table and followed the handsome creature, her legs feeling like jelly, only distantly aware of the look of protest on Belial's face. She followed him through one beautiful room after another until they entered a circular auditorium of a strangely familiar design.

"This isn't what I think it is?" she asked dreamily.

"Yes, my dear," Marcus said. "It's an exact recreation of the Globe Theatre from Shakespeare's time."

"Oh, Marcus," she said, looking around, feeling dreamy and overwhelmed. "It's amazing."

Marcus nodded and then he began reciting familiar lines. "What light from yonder window breaks? It is the sun, and Janet is the East."

Was he really doing a scene from Romeo and Juliet? It was a bit corny, to be sure, but Mary Jane had always dreamed of doing Shakespeare at the Globe. Then her eyes met his, and she noticed they were blue, a gorgeous blue, and her gaze fell to the well-muscled chest beneath his half-opened shirt. She found herself reciting the lines along with him. And, when the scene progressed, and Marcus pulled her into his strong arms, she found it difficult to resist.

As the scene ended, Marcus pulled her in for a kiss. Mary Jane started to pull away, but then she thought, It's just acting. I've done it a thousand times.

As her lips moved in toward his, abruptly a grating voice echoed on the stage.

"Red, stop!" Belial called out.

Her head snapped toward the satyr furiously. "Belial! If you don't mind, we're doing a scene."

"Oh, you're doing a scene, all right. And the next scene is going to be him deflowering you and making you his sex slave for the rest of eternity. I've seen him do it a thousand times, to a thousand different broads. As soon as his demon spunk is inside you, you're stuck here forever."

Marcus's face suddenly changed from charming to vicious, an expression of pure vitriol directed at Belial. For a moment, Mary Jane imagined she saw literal flames in his eyes.

"Get out of here, Belial," Marcus growled.

"Don't be rude, Lord Belial," Mary Jane said. "Nothing improper is happening here."

"What Ms. Van Dyne chooses to do with me is none of your concern, foul creature," Marcus said. "Now, leave."

Mary Jane nodded her assent. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than for the Demon of Greed to leave so that they could finish that kiss. And then, maybe, after that…

"No, Red! Remember, you're here for Harry!"

Harry. Her mind flashed back to riding in Harry's car, Peter's arm around her. Peter. Her husband was counting on her. Mary Jane snapped out of her daze. She looked and this time saw Marcus's eyes literally change color. For a second, she could see the true form of the demon beneath. Marcus roared and pointed a finger at Belial. Mary Jane smelled the familiar odor of hellfire and watched in horror as a beam of it lanced out to incinerate the satyr where he stood.

"Now, Janet," Marcus said. "That the pest has been dealt with. Won't you stay here and perform every night, to a packed house? Think of it, my dear. No more sitting home alone at nights, wondering if your husband is going to come home. You will finally get the recognition you deserve for your talent. Every night, hundreds of fans, screaming your name. And then we will retire to our chambers." He grinned fiendishly, running his fingers through her hair. "And you will scream mine."

In that moment, Mary Jane saw him for what he really was. His skin turned light and sallow, his ears pointed. His tongue stretched out, long and forked, like a snake's.

Mary Jane kneed the demon as hard as she could in the crotch. Marcus doubled over and she took off running for the exit. But the doors around her slammed closed before she could get there, turning to barriers framed with black bones and twisted vines. She pounded desperately on one, but found her efforts futile as Marcus closed the gap between them.

"Don't worry, my dear," he growled. "It will all be over soon. After all, my sweet Janet, you can't rape the willing."

Mary Jane screamed as loud as she could, more out of rage than fear. She fired webbing into Marcus's face, spun several nets around him. He seemed restrained for a moment, then howled in fury, and his body erupted into flames, incinerating the webbing. Then he leaped upon her.

Mary Jane fought with all her strength, but the demon was strong, impossibly strong. He held her against the floor, one powerful hand constricting around her neck, slowing her breathing. The other hand began ripping away at her clothing.

Then, a ghost came through the wall, a red-and-green ghost who floated, lighter than air, towards them. Suddenly, the ghost became impossibly heavy, and a super dense fist smashed into her attacker's face.

Marcus hit the ground and rolled. He came back up in his pure demon form and began trading punches with the ghost, which Mary Jane recognized as the robot who had spoken to her in Pym's lab.

The Vision fought with superior finesse and technique, gliding smoothly between Marcus's blows. It was clear after a minute, though, that the android's punches were having little-to-no effect on the demon. Marcus was obviously much stronger than the robot, and it would only take one or two of his blows connecting to overwhelm the Vision.

"Mary Jane," Vision said. "A search of my databanks yields a 98.7% probable match on this demon's identity. This creature's characteristics are those of the Demon of Wine and Lust. Or, as we on Earth know him, Asmodeus."

The name seemed to strike a chord with the demon, whose eyes widened in rage as he dealt the android a blow that sent him flying.

But now Mary Jane had a name.

"Asmodeus," she said. "I order you to stand down."

The demon sputtered with rage, but did not advance on her. Clearly, the name had some sort of effect.

"Asmodeus," Mary Jane commanded. "You will relinquish your hold on the soul of Harry Osborn, if you value your life, that is."

"Foolish girl," Asmodeus said. "You think to command me in my own kingdom?"

"Suit yourself. _Asmodeus_." Mary Jane pronounced the word decisively, and the demon howled as though he'd been struck.

Mary Jane fired a stream of fresh webbing at him, and the creature cried out as the actress descended upon him, dealing him a series of vicious blows.


	14. Reclamation

Mary Jane was no slouch when it came to combat. She had taken several different self-defense classes over the years, each time learning a different style. Though she was no black-belt, she was tough-as-nails and quick-on-her-feet. Peter often remarked during pillow talk that she was by far the best fighter in the family, lack of superpowers notwithstanding.

She beat Asmodeus back initially, but the demon managed to regroup. Though Mary Jane had weakened him with the power of his true name, his native demon blood still afforded him great strength and stamina.

Asmodeus began to pick up the pace of the fight, but—right on cue—the Vision phased through the floor and began attacking the demon from below. The actress and the android quickly began to coordinate their assault. Shortly, the demon was receiving a sound thrashing on the stage of the Globe.

After Mary Jane had wounded his leg with a particularly vicious kick, the Vision followed up by increasing the density of his fist and landing an unnaturally solid punch to the demon's gut, where the android's hand carried the force of approximately 4 tons of railroad steel. Asmodeus spat up blood. The Vision then began to charge up the solar gem embedded in his forehead, which glowed for several moments until a beam of pure energy lanced directly into Asmodeus's face.

Mary Jane watched for several long seconds before she realized she was seeing the creature's face slowly melt. Disgusted, she averted her gaze.

"Thank-you, Mr. Vision," Mary Jane said when it was over.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Parker. I regret our brutality against Asmodeus, but I am aware that time is of the essence to complete your mission. We must find Doctor Pym and prepare the capture equipment so that you may isolate your target."

"What—what will happen to the other women? The ones that he enslaved?"

"Time is of the essence, Mrs. Parker," Vision repeated. "We cannot afford to tarry a second too long in Mephisto's realm."

"With all due respect, Mr. Vision, this is my mission. Is there any way we can help the girls that live here?"

"They are released from the demon's power," the android said. "But many of them may have already lost the mental wherewithal to make decisions for themselves. We can only hope that they stay isolated on the grounds as long as possible before other demons arrive to lay claim to them."

"There has to be a way we can restore their free will," Mary Jane insisted.

The Vision sighed. "Medical hypnosis would likely restore most of their faculties. I could perform the technique given sufficient time. But that may be time we don't have."

"Please," Mary Jane said. "For me?"

The robot floated dutifully back toward the house. "I will do as you ask, Mrs. Parker. I only hope that your compassion for these lost souls will not damn us all."

When the hypnotherapy had been completed, the android led Mary Jane to the top of the mansion. "I can fly by altering the density of my own body to superlight levels. However, I cannot affect your own molecular structure in such a manner. If I am to take you with me, it will be more like….hang-gliding."

"Hang-gliding from a superlight robot," Mary Jane said. "Not the weirdest thing I've done today."

"Then prepare yourself."

The sensation was indeed like hang-gliding, and despite the fear and stress of the situation, Mary Jane still enjoyed it immensely.

Riding the winds of Mephisto's hell, Vision brought them to a fairly smooth landing on a rocky outcropping over a canyon. Below them, at the bottom of the canyon, lay the prone form of Hank Pym, still at the same massive size. A small force of much-smaller demons had apparently toppled him, and were now securing him with hundreds of relatively tiny ropes and stones.

Mary Jane began humming Alanis Morrissette's Ironic, but the Vision seemed not to notice. "I fear that fighting this horde off directly—while possible—would prove inefficient. Instead, I think you should take advantage of your reputation."

"My reputation?" Mary Jane said.

"Threaten them. Tell them how you defeated the three demons."

"You and Hank did most of the work," Mary Jane protested. "And I didn't really defeat Belial."

"The details are irrelevant," Vision said blandly. "The spectacle is the issue at hand. Imagine if the three most formidable warriors of your own society were singlehandedly destroyed in one day."

Mary Jane stared at him for a moment. "So what you're saying is….the play's the thing?"

"Indeed so. I will amplify your voice," the Vision said. "Speak your threats….now."

"Natives of the hell dimension," Mary Jane heard her own voice echoing across the canyon as dozens of demon heads looked up at her. "I am Janet Van Dyne, the warrior who subdued Lord Belial. I brought the creature who destroyed the Green Goblin. And I have just now come from exterminating Asmodeus. Leave my companion and this place in peace….or suffer my wrath. Now and forevermore!"

For a moment, the demons all stared at her. Then, they all turned and marched briskly out of the canyon.

Vision held her shoulders and they glided down to the bottom of the canyon. There, the robot began fiddling with Pym's equipment and checking his vital signs.

"The Doctor has received a mild concussion," Vision explained. "Combined with disorientation from remaining giant-sized too long. Based on the diagnostics I downloaded, I should be able to repair the soul-capturing equipment by the time he regains consciousness."

"What should I do?" Mary Jane asked.

"Talk to him," Vision answered. "The sooner he wakes up, the sooner we can complete our objectives."

Mary Jane sat down next to Pym's giant head and began to rub it, feeling awkward, but extremely grateful. Whatever his true motivations, the scientist had put himself at risk for her cause, and she couldn't help but feel responsible for his current condition.

"Hank," she said. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this. Please wake up. I promise when we get home, I'll help you find Janet. We'll bring her home, Hank. The Parkers won't let you down, just like you didn't let us down."

Pym drifted back to consciousness, clinging to the sound of Mary Jane's voice.

"Mary Jane," he said groggily, and slowly he shrank back down to normal size. "Vision," he said, blinking upon seeing the android. "So glad you could join us."

"Jocasta was kind enough to guide me through your data tether," the robot said. "I have nearly completed the repairs of your capture equipment, Doctor. I presume that your instruments still have a fix on the location of Mister Osborn's soul organism."

Pym fiddled with his instruments. "You presume correctly, my friend." He turned back to Mary Jane. "My dear, would you like to do the honors?"

"Doctor Pym," said the actress, model, and slayer of demons. "I would be delighted."


	15. Finale

The soul organisms reminded Mary Jane of cattle, grazing together out in the open. They resembled more amorphous blobs than bovines, and one could have easily mistook them for low-hanging fog on initial observation. Mary Jane hefted the proton pack and activated the vacuum, which Pym assured her was specifically programmed to target the electromagnetic signature he'd recorded in Harry's brain. The fog was sucked up into the machine, and Mary Jane turned it off after a moment. She peered inside the transparent window inside her backpack. Reflected in the reinforced glass, she could swear she saw the face of her old friend, looking back at her.

"I got you, Harry," she whispered. "We're going home. Peter is going to be so happy to see you."

She was so overcome with happiness, she didn't even notice the sky darkening around them, the flashes of lightning, or the geysers that began erupting with increasing strength from the lava pools around them.

"Um, Mary Jane?" Pym said.

She looked up and thunder crashed in her ears, lightning lit up the sky around them, and then a new form stood in their midst. Not as tall as Asmodeus, he was smaller and lankier. Smoke billowed from his body, but she could see pointy ears and crimson skin, flowing, red hair and the glowing eyes of a feral cat.

This was the demon that Human myth had been based on.

This was a creature ancient and terrible.

This was Mephisto.

"Who are the foolish mortals who have entered my realm?" Mephisto hissed. "Just to save one, lost soul?"

Mephisto disappeared and reappeared abruptly next to Pym, staring into the scientist's eyes. "No pure heart beating in the chest of this behemoth," he said. "A soul already twisted by its own madness is no prize at all."

Before Pym could respond, Mephisto disappeared and reappeared again, this time next to the Vision. "And I see you brought your pet toaster. Your creation's creation. The bastard child of artificial intelligence. Do you think loving a Human woman means you have a soul, robot? You are useless to everyone, including yourself."

In a clap of thunder, the Hell Lord had teleported in front of Mary Jane, and she quickly averted her gaze. However, she had stared in his eyes for a moment too long.

"Hmmmmmm," came the otherworldly growl. "This is interesting. The force of will that breached the walls of my kingdom. A power greater than science or magic combined. The pure love of a woman for a man."

"I'm not here for love," Mary Jane protested.

"Don't be a fool," Mephisto snarled. "Your intentions are as transparent as that dress you wore for Fashion Week."

Mary Jane turned her head back towards the Hell Lord. "You know me?"

"I didn't before," Mephisto said. "But I'm starting to, now. I'm very interested. How could a mortal woman love a mortal man so much?" He circled around her. "That she would risk, death, dismemberment, and the wrath of a creature older than your civilization…just to give him back his best friend?"

"Mephistopheles," Pym spoke up. "I believe you're putting your focus in the wrong place. It was my technology that allowed us to breach the walls of your realm. It was my fists that mashed your servants like potatoes. It is Goliath who incurs your wrath. Not this insignificant creature."

"Stop trying to be noble, Doctor Pym," Mephisto said. "It just sounds stupid coming from the man whose creations have rained down more destruction on Earth than my kind could ever dream of."

Mephisto then appeared behind Mary Jane, resting his finger on a piece of her equipment. "A Pym Particle dispenser, is it?" His finger lit up and the tiny machine sparked and smoked. Dead.

"I'm afraid this is one challenge, Mary Jane, that you can't shrink from," Mephisto said.

In those moments, Pym and Vision had been communicating with their eyes, in a way that only grandfathers and grandsons can. At Mephisto's last words, they launched a coordinated assault. But the Hell Lord proved to be faster than either of them had imagined. The Vision came away with a battered face and a cracked solar gem. Hank was both severely scorched and slashed. Mephisto suffered absolutely no damage at all. Mary Jane cried out at seeing her friends so viciously wounded. She was grateful when Pym shrunk out of sight, and Vision was not far behind.

Then Mephisto turned his full attention to her, and a cold splash of fear drenched her.

"A love so pure, I would have paid uncountable riches to possess it," Mephisto said. "But here, it just walks into my grasp…for no cost at all. What a funny little universe we live in."

He appeared in her face again, stroking her chin with long, sinewy fingers. "You will pray for the tender mercies of Asmodeus when you see what tortures I have in store for you, girl."

Mary Jane was on the verge of giving up hope, when she remembered something the devil had said. "A force stronger than science or magic," she repeated. "A power that even the ancient Hell Lord Mephistopheles covets."

The devil stared at her curiously.

"Pure love," Mary Jane whispered. "Did you imagine, Mephisto, that such love only went one way?"

Abruptly, a red-booted foot collided with Mephisto's face. The demon who had shrugged off the attacks of two Avengers like they were nothing…lost his balance and toppled to the ground.

"WHO DARES?!" the devil shouted.

Perched on a craggy rock a few feet away, Spider-Man's voice rang out in hell. "When it comes to dares, there's no one with more derring-do in all the dimensions than the one-and-only wallcrawler." He bowed theatrically, but still had plenty of time to dodge a stream of hellfire that shot towards him.

The whole place seemed to erupt into a deadly firestorm as the Hell Lord turned his realm against them. But-Mary Jane reflected, as her husband's powerful body hurtled through the air towards her. The power of the devil was no match for Spider speed and agility.

Spider-Man dove and dipped through the chaos like a kid playing in a candy store.

Seconds later, he scooped her into his arms, fired a webline into somewhere, and began bouncing crazily from crag to crag, carrying Mary Jane safely through the chaos.

"FOOLS!" Mephisto shouted from somewhere behind them. "You may be fast, but there's no way you can escape me on my own turf!"

The Hell Lord teleported next to them, launching a lightning-fast attack—which stopped like a bird against a windshield just inches from their faces. In the air between them, Mary Jane's eyes caught the faintest sheen of a magic spell.

"Ahh, you see," Spider-Man said. "When I found out that my wife had taken a day trip, I couldn't afford to take the long way around. I came directly through Doctor Strange's Portal Express. And the Doc is kind enough to provide our very own Shield of the Seraphim as part of his premium vacation package."

The whole realm shook as Mephisto's cry of rage echoed throughout the erupting lava geysers and storms of rock shrapnel. With his natural agility, Spider-Man dodged and weaved, carrying his wife safely through the chaos. Ahead of them, a portal was open. As they flew towards it, Mary Jane said, "Tiger, I'm so sorry."

"Aw shux, Red," Spider-Man said. "I forgive you."

They passed through the portal, which closed behind them as they landed in a rolling dive on the floor of the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Mary Jane opened her mouth to apologize again, but found instead her husband's lips pressed against hers, his impossibly strong arms holding her in the embrace of a grateful man who had nearly lost his wife.

They stayed like that for several long minutes.


	16. Epilogue

"The love between a good man and a good woman is stronger than science or magic. It is indeed a power that can tear down the walls between dimensions. From that day forth, Mephisto set his sights on possessing that prize. In the controversial One More Day arc, Peter traded away his marriage to his beloved wife in exchange for the life of his Aunt May. Comic fans still don't know what Mephisto whispered in Mary Jane Parker's ear in the hours before their fateful bargain.

What we do know is that after the Parkers' marriage was sacrificed, Harry Osborn showed back up in their lives, revealing that his death had been faked and he had been living in Europe secretly for years while recovering his sanity."

"That's a fascinating story, Hank," Pepper Potts said, sitting across from the scientist in a conference room high in Avenger's Tower. "But you understand how difficult it is to categorize a trip to hell on an expense report."

Pym puzzled for a moment. "I can't imagine it's impossible. The expedition produced significant scientific results, as well. Why, my paper on the Pym Bat has received critical acclaim from the entire academic community."

"Hank, don't play with me."

"Well, maybe not the entire community, but—"

"Hank, was this about Jan?"

"No. It was about Harry Osborn."

"You mean Larry Osborn?"

"Was that his name?"

Pepper raised her hands in frustration. "You see now why no one believes you?"

A holographic image sprouted in Pym's face and he began to focus his attention on something else. "I'm a scientist, Ms. Potts. The results speak for themselves."

"By results, do you mean the results where the Parker family is targeted by Mephisto because of your carelessness?"

"Is this the part where you lecture me on informed consent?"

"This is the part where I tell you to be more responsible with civilian lives, and then remind you that we all love you."

"Of all the pencil-pushers I've met in my career, Ms. Potts, you are-by far-my favorite."

Pepper stood, closed her book, and flashed the doctor a charming smile. "Oh, Hank. Stop buttering me up."


End file.
